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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764849">Aliens Didn't Make Them Do It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard'>draculard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Planet, Bondage, Dom Eli, Flustered Eli, Flustered Thrawn, Gags, Glove Kink, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Watching, Roommates, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Room, Spice (Star Wars), Sub Thrawn, Temperature Play, Temptation, Whipped Cream, light dom/sub elements</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:22:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alien planet? Check. Local spice cartel? Check. Badass tactical plan? Check. All Thrawn and Eli need to take the smugglers down now is access to the aliens' sacred temple.</p><p>But to get access to that temple, they'll have to pass an all-night test to prove their respect for local culture.</p><p>A.K.A:</p><p>"Don't fuck," the Nozama said.</p><p>Eli blinked. Thrawn tilted his head to the side.</p><p>"Come again?" he said.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aliens Didn't Make Them Do It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Come say hi on tumblr, I'm draculard there too</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“One final thing,” Thrawn said.</p><p>The Nozama warrior paused, his short, squat figure swiveling around to squint up at Thrawn. The sun was almost down, its dying rays illuminating Thrawn’s skin as he surveyed the area.</p><p>“Yes?” the Nozama said.</p><p>Thrawn’s eyes shifted toward Eli. “My aide and I will need use of your temple for the plan we’ve put into place,” he said, indicating the ancient Nozama temple across the lake. “It provides the optimal location for both surveillance and, should your spice cartel rise to the bait, a carefully-timed ambush. I’m afraid this is non-negotiable; no other structure will do, unless you’re willing to increase our time frame by several days.”</p><p>The Nozama’s eyes narrowed; he looked between Eli and Thrawn with an air almost like suspicion.</p><p>“The temple,” he said, stroking his beard. “Yes, I suppose we can handle that. There’s only one thing…”</p><p>Thrawn cocked his head. Eli straightened his back, waiting for the other shoe to drop.</p><p>“No off-worlders are permitted inside the temple,” said the Nozama, “unless they have proven their respect for our customs in the holding chamber first.”</p><p>Eli glanced at Thrawn just in time to see him raise one blue-black eyebrow.</p><p>“The holding chamber?” he prompted.</p><p>“Come,” said the Nozama. “I’ll show you.”</p><p>It was a short walk; the Nozama led them right back to the elaborate modern hotel where their shuttle was parked. After exchanging a few words with the concierge in his native tongue, the Nozama took a key and gestured for Thrawn and Eli to follow him down the hall, where he unlocked a nondescript door that didn’t appear any different from the others on the floor.</p><p>Eli stuck his head in. Thrawn stepped inside, observing the room more closely. It looked just like any other hotel Eli had been in: two beds, a desk and chair, a decent fresher. There was even an entertainment center set up with all the latest holos and games.</p><p>Thrawn’s eyes tracked over every corner of the room before circling back to Eli with a subtle but pointed expression. </p><p>“And how are we to prove our respect for your customs?” asked Thrawn, barely glancing at the Nozama.</p><p>“It’s simple,” said the Nozama. He clasped his hands in front of his belt, resembling for a moment the thoughtful-looking monks Eli had seen on Lysatra as a child. “We ask only one thing,” the Nozama said. He took a deep breath, a serene expression on his face. “Don’t fuck.”</p><p>Eli’s breath caught in his throat. Beside him, he felt Thrawn go still.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Thrawn said. </p><p>The Nozama’s face was placid. “Don’t fuck,” he repeated.</p><p>Thrawn looked at Eli, eyebrows raised, silently asking if he’d misheard. Eli shook his head.</p><p>“The Nozama value self-control above all other traits,” the Nozama said. “Anyone who seeks to enter the temple must pass this test first. It is what we ask of all visitors.”</p><p>“Not to... have sex...with each other?” Eli asked, very deliberately <em> not </em>looking Thrawn’s way.</p><p>“Yes,” the Nozama said.</p><p>“These are the parameters you set for every visitor?” Thrawn asked, his voice sounding strange. “It is not a test specifically designed for Ensign Vanto and myself?”</p><p>“No,” the Nozama said. He spread his palms out in a benevolent gesture. “Don’t fuck.”</p><p>For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Eli finally gave in and met Thrawn’s gaze, saw the same helpless confusion he was feeling reflected back at him.</p><p>“We’re not—” he said, then hesitated, studying the Nozama’s face. “We’re not together,” he said awkwardly.</p><p>“I know,” said the Nozama. He didn’t seem to understand why this was relevant.</p><p>“So we’re <em> already </em>not — uh, sleeping together,” Eli explained. "So it's not much of a test."</p><p>“Sure,” the Nozama said.</p><p>Thrawn darted a glance at Eli, then turned back to the Nozama instead. “And the other parameters?” he said carefully. </p><p>The Nozama gave him a cheerfully clueless look. Delicately, Thrawn indicated the two beds.</p><p>“If this is a test, there must be other factors coming into play,” he said. When the Nozama didn’t jump to fill in the blanks, Thrawn tilted his head to the side and licked his lips, more puzzled than Eli had ever seen him. “Must we share a bed, for example? Will we be deprived of clothing?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Are we to be drugged?” Thrawn asked.</p><p>“Heavens, no,” said the Nozama.</p><p>“We are not to be influenced in any way?”</p><p>“Of course not!” said the Nozama with an amiable grin. “Just don’t fuck. That is the test.”</p><p>Thrawn stared at him a moment longer, his expression unreadable, and then pulled Eli aside. He gestured for Eli to pull his datapad up with a flick of his finger; in a confidential tone, he said, “Your dictionary of the local dialects, Ensign. Cross-reference. We must be certain this isn’t a translation issue.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” said Eli. Suddenly, irrationally, he found himself hyper-cognizant of the warm brush of Thrawn’s breath against his cheek; Thrawn’s fingers lingered on his arm a moment before pulling away.</p><p>He half-listened as Thrawn questioned the Nozama; the other half of his brain focused solely on the data before him, confirming that ‘fuck,’ in every cataloged Nozami language, simply meant ‘fuck.’ With a deep breath, Eli returned to Thrawn’s side and showed him the results.</p><p>“Hm,” said Thrawn, his face and tone giving nothing away. His eyes flicked back to the Nozama. “And if we pass this test,” he said, “we will be permitted to enter the temple in the morning?”</p><p>“Yes,” said the Nozama.</p><p>“Tomorrow morning?” Thrawn stressed, searching for traps. “At dawn?”</p><p>“Yes,” said the Nozama.</p><p>“Well, how will you know we didn’t…?” Eli said, scanning the room for cameras.</p><p>“The walls are very thin,” said the Nozama. “Isn’t that right, Jaek?”</p><p>“That’s right,” said a voice from the room next door.</p><p>Eli’s blush intensified.</p><p>“Okay,” he said, working through the embarrassment. He could hear the resignation in his voice. “Don’t fuck. How hard can it be?”</p><p>The Nozama beamed up at him. “You accept the parameters?”</p><p>Eli hesitated, looking at Thrawn. To his surprise and dismay, Thrawn was staring back at him with an intense, searching look in his eyes. </p><p>“Ensign?” he said, his voice a low rumble that went straight through Eli’s chest. “Do you accept those parameters?”</p><p>Mouth suddenly and inexplicably dry, Eli looked back to the Nozama.</p><p>“Of course,” he heard himself say. </p><p>All he had to do was <em> not </em>fuck Thrawn. Really, how hard could that be? </p><p>He’d been doing it for five years straight already.</p><hr/><p>The door closed behind the Nozama, the sun went down, and Thrawn and Eli were alone.</p><p><em> Not </em>fucking.</p><p>Which was fine.</p><p>Eli shuffled from foot to foot, his uniform suddenly stifling him. He glanced at Thrawn, who still stood just inside the door, hands clasped behind his back and eyes scanning the room. Eli’s gaze darted down to their luggage, forgotten in the hall, and with a muttered “excuse me,” he brushed past Thrawn to grab his suitcase.</p><p>Brushed past Thrawn. Thrawn, whose body heat always managed to surprise him. Thrawn, who was unabashedly watching Eli’s every move as he bent over and grabbed his luggage off the floor.</p><p>“Er, just going to change, sir,” Eli said, holding the suitcase to his chest.</p><p>“Of course,” said Thrawn.</p><p>He didn’t blink. He didn’t look away. Eli retreated to the far side of the room and deposited his suitcase on the bed, hyper-aware of Thrawn’s eyes on his back. He opened it, surveyed his sleep clothes, and felt a wave of relief that he’d had the foresight to pack actual pajamas, just in case they ended up with shared quarters. They were very unsexy pajamas, granted — but that was something of a boon here, wasn’t it? If there was ever a time to wear a matching set of cheesy plaid PJs, it was now.</p><p>He pulled the folded bundle of flannel out and hesitated, holding them in his hands. His thoughts spun backward to the Imperial Academy — that first awkward week he’d spent sharing a room with Thrawn, always going to bed early and turning his face toward the wall to avoid catching a peek of Thrawn as he undressed. He’d grown up hearing all the stereotypes about aliens — that they were less modest, more sexually open than humans — and he knew they were just stereotypes, but that hadn’t stopped them from popping into his head back then.</p><p>Or now, apparently. Although after all this time, he could safely cross Chiss off the list of promiscuous aliens. Eli stared down at his pajamas, lost in his thoughts until he heard the scrape of Thrawn’s suitcase against the floor and jolted back to reality.</p><p>“Ahem,” he said, and then couldn’t for the life of him explain why he cleared his throat. Thrawn paused mid-step, waiting for Eli to continue, and Eli studiously pretended not to notice even as his cheeks flamed with embarrassment.</p><p>“Ensign?” Thrawn prompted, because apparently he couldn’t take a hint.</p><p>“Hm?” said Eli innocently. He didn’t look up. After a moment, Thrawn murmured a dismissal and propped his suitcase on the desk, situating himself only a foot or so from Eli, back-to-back.</p><p>Gradually, Eli peeked over his shoulder. He saw Thrawn’s open suitcase, the contents folded and organized with enviable precision. He watched as long, slender blue fingers moved deftly through the contents, palming stacks of datacards and setting them aside on the table, then going back, pulling out — <em> underwear? </em> Eli thought, his heart rate spiking — a set of Imperial-issue athletic wear, comfortable and nondescript.</p><p>Thrawn turned, the bundle of clothing in his hand, and somehow, Eli forgot to turn away before he got caught staring. He froze up, forced to endure Thrawn’s raised eyebrows for a moment of silence.</p><p>“Will you be changing here?” Thrawn asked. The cadence of his voice was ever-so-slightly off.</p><p>“Here?” Eli asked, heart pounding.</p><p>“In the room?” Thrawn clarified, inclining his head.</p><p>“Oh,” said Eli. He stared at Thrawn, mouth dry, and realized this wasn’t an answer only when a line appeared between Thrawn’s eyebrows. “<em>Oh</em>,” he said. “No, I-I was gonna change in the fresher, sir.”</p><p>Thrawn’s lips parted as if he had something to say. His tongue darted out, the tip of it wetting his lips. His eyes shifted sideways, aways from Eli.</p><p>“Of course,” he said finally, his voice a murmur. He indicated the fresher with a courteous sweep of his arm. </p><p>Right.</p><p>This was fine.</p><p>This wasn’t weird at all.</p><p>Eli practically charged into the fresher, a totally new kind of tension washing over him. He changed in a frenzy, shedding his uniform in favor of the pajamas, part of him hoping the costume change might bring about a change in personality as well — calm him down, make him less flustered, more like himself again. He splashed water over his face to cool his blush and watched himself in the mirror, counting down the seconds until his complexion was back to normal.</p><p>Unsexy pajamas? Check. Totally normal non-flustered expression on his face? Check (mostly).</p><p>With a deep breath, he turned to the fresher door…</p><p>...and knocked on it.</p><p>“Sir?” he called from the inside of the fresher. “Are you decent?”</p><p>There was a half-second pause before he got a baffled, “Yes?” in return. </p><p>Good. Because Eli wasn’t taking any chances tonight. He exited the fresher with his uniform balled up under his arm, found Thrawn sitting on the bed — <em> fully dressed</em>, thank God — and breathed a sigh of relief as he crossed the room. He stuffed the discarded tunic and trousers into his suitcase without folding them and tossed the whole thing over the side of the bed, where it hit the wall with a clunk.</p><p>“...Ensign?” Thrawn said.</p><p>Eli hopped onto the bed, feeling oddly relieved about his successful exit from the fresher. He didn’t turn to look at Thrawn right away. “Yes, sir?” he said.</p><p>There was a discomfiting pause. He heard the creak of mattress springs and looked up in time to see Thrawn stand up, his movements strangely slow and cautious as he walked between their beds toward the entertainment center. Thrawn bent at the waist — and God, even that simple movement was so graceful and lithe, his casual clothes accentuating every muscle — and grabbed something off the floor.</p><p>Delicately, he held up Eli’s boxers.</p><p>“You dropped these,” he said. His finger was hooked through the Y-front, touching fabric that just minutes ago had been touching Eli’s dick.</p><p>Eli stared at the boxers, his mouth dry, his face blank. He forced himself to study Thrawn’s face, saw absolutely no emotion there.</p><p>“Oh,” he managed to say.</p><p>Taking this as some sort of signal, Thrawn scrunched the underwear into a little ball — that would be <em> Eli’s boxers </em> in <em> Thrawn’s hand</em>, in case anybody missed it — and tossed them Eli’s way.</p><p>“Thanks,” Eli heard himself say.</p><p>“Of course,” Thrawn said. He didn’t go back to his bed right away; instead, he glanced down at his hand, his eyes distant and thoughtful, and the longer he stared at his hand, the worse Eli’s blush got. He felt his mouth hanging open but couldn’t do anything to stop it. </p><p>Finally, Thrawn seemed to realize what he was doing and clasped both hands behind his back, eyes shunting away again. He still didn’t go back to his bed.</p><p>...his cheeks seemed a darker shade of blue than normal.</p><p>“Sir—” Eli started.</p><p>“Would you like to select a holo?” Thrawn said at the same time. He hesitated, looked for a moment like he wanted to acknowledge his interruption, perhaps apologize and invite Eli to speak. Then he gave a slight shrug and seemed to dismiss the option. “They are, unfortunately, all of the romance genre,” he said. “Save one.”</p><p>Eli sat up, eyebrows raised. “Save one?” he said.</p><p>When Thrawn only indicated the entertainment center, Eli stood and inspected the holodiscs for himself; he was horribly aware of Thrawn’s elbow brushing his as they crowded near the shelves. The one exception, he saw, was indeed Not A Romance — it was an infamously terrible musical that had been universally panned when it came out, its cheesy special effects, ear-bleeding songs, and general lack of storyline ensuring that nobody could sit through the entire thing.</p><p>“Okay,” said Eli, selecting that holodisc. <em> “Loth-Cats </em> it is.”</p><p>Thrawn raised an eyebrow at him, watching as Eli popped the disc in and turned the station on. Hitting the input button brought Eli to a random TV channel; there was a burst of static, then color and sound, and in the split second it took him to process the images in front of him, he realized they definitely weren’t watching <em> Loth-Cats</em>.</p><p>“Ah,” said Thrawn faintly before Eli changed the channel. His face flamed; the image he’d just seen — a Twi’lek and a human, both naked, the human’s firm ass on full display as he thrust into her — sitting at the forefront of his mind. The next channel was no better; Eli found himself staring at a Wroonian man, his limbs splayed and tied to posts, his human partner rubbing a handful of ice cubes up the length of his cock as he moaned and twitched helplessly against the ropes.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” said Thrawn, his tone entirely different. Eli glanced over his shoulder, already changing the channel, and caught a quick glimpse of Thrawn’s flushed cheeks.</p><p>“What—” he started, his eyes trailing down Thrawn’s abdomen.</p><p>But goddammit, the next channel was porn too, and the moans he heard <em> completely </em>distracted him from finishing that downward look.</p><p>“What is <em> with </em>this hotel?” Eli growled, shutting the projector off entirely. The last image he’d seen, this one of three human men going at it in some sort of godforsaken sexy jail cell, stuck in his mind. By the time he looked back at Thrawn, the other man had already cleared his throat and walked back to his bed, where he sat with his legs crossed and an expression of utter dignity and calm on his face.</p><p>...and a blanket folded over his lap.</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>No, no, <em> not </em> interesting, Eli chided himself, his cheeks flaming again. This was <em> not </em> interesting, this was <em> not </em> sexy, porn was <em> not </em> fun, and he and Thrawn were <em> definitely </em> not going to fuck. They were going to watch <em> Loth-Cats</em>, the unsexiest movie in the world, and they were going to go to sleep and dream unsexy dreams of — of Grand Moff Tarkin clipping his toenails or Emperor Palpatine soaking his gnarled old feet in the bath. </p><p>There was nothing unsexier than feet, Eli decided. He cast his eyes sideways, caught sight of the graceful blue arch of Thrawn’s foot peeking out from under the blanket. Unless Thrawn had a thing for feet…? Could he grow to like feet if Thrawn wanted him to? He imagined himself running his fingernails lightly over the sole of Thrawn’s foot, watching him flinch in pleasure and surprise, his head tip back, his throat bob and his jaw flex as he gasped—</p><p><em> Oh how the righteous have fallen, </em> Eli thought, watching his sense of superiority over foot fetishists swirl down the drain.</p><p>He cleared his throat and tried the input button again. This time — thank God — he saw nothing but the nightmarish special effects of a bunch of humans dressed in skintight Loth-Cat costumes. </p><p>“Okay,” said Eli, letting his breath out in a sigh. He retreated to his bed, adjusting the covers over his legs, studiously not looking at Thrawn. Still, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thrawn resting with his <strike>powerful, muscular</strike> legs curled up and one <strike>strong, long-fingered</strike> hand resting on his chin. His lap was still hidden beneath the blankets, his eyes dazed and far away.</p><p>Because of the bad movie, Eli told himself firmly. Not because of that Wroonian, his blue skin flushed from the cold, his teeth bared in a mixture of pleasure and pain, his muscles flexing as he flinched and whined.</p><p>Blinking, Eli forced his thoughts back to <em> Loth-Cats. </em> The unsexiest actor in the world affected a low-level Coruscanti accent and spun around in his fat suit; in the background, some poor actually-attractive, actually-talented extras performed complex ballet movements, but the camera never focused on them. Even when the blue-suited Loth-cat dancer and the brown-suited Loth-cat dancer pressed their hips together and—</p><p>Eli’s mouth went dry, staring in horror at his thickening cock. Seriously? Because of Loth-Cats?</p><p>
  <em> Loth-Cats?! </em>
</p><p>He was spiraling into the lowest depths of self-hate and mortified kink discovery when he saw Thrawn fidget out of the corner of his eye. Eli glanced over just in time to see him rubbing his wrists and eyeing the fresher door. He shoved all thoughts of blue-skinned — <em> blue-suited, </em> he meant blue-<em>suited </em>— Loth-cats out of his mind.</p><p>“You need me to pause it?” Eli asked, his hand on the remote. His voice came out sounding reasonably level, but somewhat breathless. </p><p>Thrawn jolted, flushed. Settled back against his headboard.</p><p>“No,” he said.</p><p>In the background, an actor who clearly didn’t have any voice training screeched her way through the galaxy’s most ill-advised love song, ad-libbing lyrics here and there wherever her dubious comedic timing told her it might be funny. The piano limped along after her, struggling to adjust, and Thrawn—</p><p>Thrawn was biting his lip. Eli watched his teeth, white and sharp, drag over skin, leaving his bottom lip flushed and swollen.</p><p>Heart beating fast, he forced himself to look away. Thrawn wasn’t even watching the movie; his eyes were far away, his mind probably still fixed on— </p><p>On number puzzles or tactical problems or something.</p><p>Or on ice cubes.</p><p>On blue wrists bound with silky black rope and broad human hands running down his chest, his quivering stomach, his straining thighs, his—</p><p>“Room service?” Eli said, voice strangled. "You want room service?"</p><p>Thrawn’s head whipped around to stare at him. “Come again?” he said, and oh boy, his voice was <em> rough</em>. Eli reached for the menu on the table between their beds, but for <em> some godforsaken reason, </em> Thrawn misinterpreted the gesture and leaned toward him as well, his hand almost brushing Eli’s before he noticed the menu and abruptly pulled back and looked away, pretending he hadn’t reached over and almost touched Eli at all.</p><p>Which was normal.</p><p>Which was fine.</p><p>Eli opened the menu, burying his nose in it. Here was the thing: you couldn’t fuck on a full stomach. Not that he and Thrawn were even <em> tempted</em>, of course — and even if <em> he </em> was, Thrawn certainly wouldn’t be, right? weird non-touch aside — but still, if he absolutely gorged himself on some gourmet Nozama steaks, he wouldn’t even be able to <em> think </em>about sex.</p><p>Eli was reasonably sure that even Thrawn couldn’t make him develop a feeder kink. He tested it out in his head, sweating nervously, and breathed a sigh of relief a moment later when his level of arousal dampened and died. </p><p>Some things were still right in the universe.</p><p>He grappled blindly for the hotel comm, his eyes lifting briefly from the menu as he memorized his order.</p><p>“Do you want—?” he started, and then his breath hitched in his throat, because Thrawn was biting his lip again, his arms crossed so tightly over his chest that his biceps bulged — god, that white tunic he normally wore wasn’t bad, but these athletic shirts? It wasn’t fair. Across his cheeks, there was a deep indigo flush.</p><p>Eli dropped the comm. </p><p>Kriff, he needed to get a grip on himself. He needed a cool shower. He needed to stop projecting his own feelings on Thrawn, because for fuck’s sake, this was <em> Thrawn </em> — Mister Tall Cool and Emotionless himself. In all their years together, Eli had never once known Thrawn to take shore leave, to even flirt with anyone, or hell, he’d never even caught Thrawn masturbating back when they shared a room. So obviously, Thrawn wasn’t still obsessing over the Wroonian in bondage, <em> Eli </em> was. He wasn’t sitting there blushing for no reason; <em> Eli </em>was. And earlier, that hand reach—</p><p>—had been probably—</p><p>—like maybe just a—</p><p>Eli weighed the comm in his hand. He was a bit at a loss over the hand reach. Plus, he probably shouldn’t have thought about Thrawn masturbating, because now his mind was spinning in all sorts of awful directions, wondering how well Thrawn’s cock might fit into his own hand, what he might do to himself — pull his own hair? Bite his own wrist, muffle the sounds to keep himself quiet? Scratch at his thighs, nip and lave at his fingers until they were wet with saliva and sensitive to the touch, rub them over his nipples, let the spit cool against his skin in the air, run his slick fingers down his body, between his legs.</p><p>Back arching as he touched himself. Muted gasps spilling from his lips as he spread his thighs, teased himself, ran his finger over the rim of his hole—</p><p>“Just a pitcher of cucowa water,” Thrawn said, wrenching Eli from his thoughts. Thrawn’s arms were still crossed, his chin tilted down as if to protect his throat. “And some ice,” he added, voice tight.</p><p>Wow. Ice. So he was really—</p><p>Oh, yeah. The room service order.</p><p>Because <em> that </em> would make Eli forget that he was achingly, unstoppably hard. He grimaced, the stupidity of his own plan setting in. Because a nice steak would <em> definitely </em>make him forget that he just had an entire fantasy about his commanding officer jerking off in the hotel bed next to him.</p><p>...would that be against the rules? ‘Don’t fuck,’ the Nozama had said. Not ‘don’t watch each other masturbate.’</p><p>“Heyiwannaorderroomservice,” Eli garbled, jabbing the comm’s power button with his finger. Thrawn shot him a concerned look that Eli absolutely could not respond to right now. He felt his face flushing, barely heard the Nozama clerk’s response as he rushed through their orders. </p><p>He turned back to the holopod, biting down on his own knuckles and trying desperately to focus on — god, what were they watching again? <em> Loth-Cats? </em> Whose bright idea was <em> that? </em>Wasn’t there, like, an entire cat orgy later on? Ballet dancers of all kinds wearing skin-tight leotards and weird-ass makeup and grinding up against each other? </p><p>Eli rested his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers over his heated cheeks. He stifled a groan. All these years with Thrawn, all those successful missions, and here he was: felled by the world’s most juvenile, most transparent reverse psychology.</p><p><em> Don’t fuck, </em> the Nozama said. Well, the Nozama was a bastard. He’d <em> seen </em> Thrawn before he gave that order, he <em> knew </em>how hard it was to resist. </p><p>Ten minutes passed in torture. Eli’s stomach was a knot of anxiety and need, his cock twitching against his thigh every time he started to forget he was hard. He tried not to shift on the bed too obviously, tried to resist the urge for friction — but no matter what he did, it seemed like there was always something there to exacerbate the situation. The seam of his pajama pants cut hard against his cockhead with a type of burning friction that threatened to turn into something ten times better if Eli just rocked his hips and leaned into it.</p><p>When the doorbell rang, he almost jumped out of his skin.</p><p>“I’ll get it,” said Thrawn roughly, practically leaping off the bed. Eli followed him with his eyes, the athletic sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to hide the shape of Thrawn’s ass. At the door, Thrawn shifted position from foot to foot, his back to Eli, and then — for reasons completely unfathomable — reached over and grabbed Eli’s cap off the table nearby. He held this in front of him, clasped loosely in his hand, as he answered the door.</p><p>“Room service,” the Nozama chirped. “Brought you some extras.”</p><p>“No extras—” Thrawn started, but the Nozama zipped past him, wielding a little silver cart like a battering ram. Thrawn shuffled awkwardly behind him, Eli’s cap still clutched in front of him. In the middle of the room, the Nozama stopped and, with a wall-eyed flourish of the hand, removed the dish cover— </p><p>—and revealed champagne, whipped cream, a heart-shaped box of chockit truffles, a— </p><p>—a pair of <em> handcuffs? </em></p><p>“We were out of cucowa water,” said the Nozama cheerfully, “so I just threw some stuff together. Hope it’s alright.” He held out a plate of vaguely phallic pastries to Thrawn, who blinked down at them rapidly. “Here,” said the Nozama. “Try it.”</p><p>“I am not fond of sweet foods,” said Thrawn, a hint of strain in his voice.</p><p>“Try it,” the Nozama said. He prodded Thrawn’s hip with the edge of the plate, threatening to dislodge Eli’s cap from its post over Thrawn's fly.</p><p>“No, thank you,” said Thrawn.</p><p>“Try it.”</p><p>“He’s not going to try it,” Eli put in, his voice ten times more strained than Thrawn’s. “Just go.”</p><p>“You can’t enter our temple if you don’t try the pastry,” said the Nozama evenly. He shifted the plate slightly leftward and jabbed the edge of it toward the center of Eli’s cap, causing Thrawn to jump back, his eyes narrowing.</p><p>“Very well,” he said, voice tight. He selected the least penis-shaped pastry from the tray (which wasn't saying much) and eyed it for a moment. Eli got the distinct impression that Thrawn wanted to crush or otherwise mutilate the pastry before he ate it, but couldn’t do so without temporarily letting go of the cap and revealing…</p><p><em> ...okay, so let’s face it</em>, Eli told himself: Thrawn was hiding an erection. There was no other option that made sense. Thrawn was hard, and Thrawn was wearing clingy sweatpants that probably outlined his cock like you wouldn’t believe, and also Thrawn was currently hiding that erection with Eli’s cap, the brim of it brushing against his cockhead — well, <em> probably </em> <em> — </em> and also <em> also</em>, because the universe hated Eli with a passion and wanted him to overheat and <em> die</em>, Thrawn was currently sticking the head-end of a dick-shaped donut between his lips.</p><p><em> Sliding </em>it over his lips, really. Dragging the cockhead over his bottom lip, still wet and swollen from where Thrawn had been biting it. His tongue flashing out, a deep shade of purple, and pressing flat against the head.</p><p>White teeth flashing, biting down. Cream spilling out, leaving a speck of white on his— </p><p>Goddammit, <em> goddammit </em> , Eli was <em> not </em>going to develop anymore kinks tonight, and that was a firm, unbreakable stance.</p><p>“Taste good?” asked the Nozama cheerfully.</p><p>Thrawn dropped the half-eaten pastry back on the plate. Somehow, the Nozama seemed unfazed.</p><p>“Well, enjoy,” he said on his way out. “Don’t fuck.”</p><p>The door swung shut behind him.</p><p>Eli sat on his bed, chest heaving up and down, legs splayed before him — when had he even changed positions? Fuck, probably while Thrawn was giving a fucking <em> blowjob </em> to a fucking <em> donut</em>, if he had to guess — and his hands planted on the mattress between his thighs. His cock rubbed up against his wrist, and before he could even think about it, he tilted his hips forward, leaned instinctively into the pressure.</p><p>And across from him, Thrawn watched Eli intently, eyes glowing, jaw set. The cap slipped from his fingers, revealing the outline of his long, thick cock, currently arcing against his thigh. A spot of pre-cum had darkened the fabric around the head, and oh, Eli could imagine all too well how the slick material rubbed against Thrawn’s cock as he walked.</p><p>Eli bit his lip. His eyes flicked toward the holopod, then past it to the thin walls.</p><p>“Hey,” he said, his voice a croak, “Jaek?”</p><p>There was no answer. Thrawn’s eyes seemed to glow even brighter as he realized what Eli was doing.</p><p>“Jaek?” said Eli somewhat louder, his voice firm now. “You there, buddy? You got an extra towel we could borrow?”</p><p>Still no response. Stepping closer to the wall — his cock shifting beneath the fabric of his pants as he did so — Thrawn said loudly and clearly, “Nozama Jaek. We request your assistance.”</p><p>“What?” said a petulant voice through the walls. “I’m watching <em> This Is Us.</em>”</p><p>Thrawn breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth in what Eli recognized as his ‘meditating so as not to murder somebody’ pose.</p><p>“No matter, Nozama Jaek,” he said. “Return to your post.”</p><p>Well, they had their answer, Eli thought, his heart pounding as Thrawn turned to face him. They knew how loud they could get without the Nozama hearing. But could they risk it? He pulled back, scooting against the headboard in a flurry of excitement as Thrawn approached him with a predator’s stance. When Thrawn lowered himself onto Eli’s bed, crawling silently up to kneel between his spread legs, Eli thought he might faint.</p><p>“I have a tendency,” Thrawn breathed, an apologetic note in his voice and an urgent spark of need in his eyes, “to be somewhat vocal in bed.”</p><p>Eli’s heart stuttered. He studied Thrawn’s face, something in his chest heating up way too fast as he processed those words. His eyes dropped down to Thrawn’s wrists, and suddenly he remembered that Wroonian, all tied up — and the bucket of ice that had come with the champagne, how the cubes would fit into his palm, how Thrawn's muscles would tense and his breath shudder as Eli trailed ice up his sides, over his nipples, under his arms, down to his thighs, his hole, his cock — and how flustered Thrawn had got over that image in the first place.</p><p>Would Thrawn like to be gagged? he wondered. His eyes flicked to his suitcase, cataloging the items he’d brought with him. His gloves — his uniform gloves, the perfect size and shape; he could see it now, the black leather sliding over Thrawn’s wet lips, his teeth clamping down over it to keep himself quiet as he moaned.</p><p>Thrawn followed Eli’s gaze. His breathing quickened, the motion of his chest deepening as he struggled for air. This close, Eli could feel heat radiating off Thrawn’s bare arms, smell the spicy scent of his arousal — and if he wanted to brush against Thrawn’s cock, all he would have to do is shift his legs and— </p><p>“Get the gloves,” Thrawn said, voice ragged.</p><p>Spice cartels, Eli thought as he scrambled off the bed, had never seemed less important.</p><hr/><p>The Nozama sat together on Jaek’s couch, idly tossing popcorn into their mouths as they watched <em> This Is Us. </em> The holopod was muted; the sounds of barely-audible gasps and skin-on-skin filtered through from the room next door.</p><p>“What’d you tell them again?” the clerk asked.</p><p>“Said they couldn’t fuck,” the guide replied. “Or they wouldn’t be allowed to use the temple.”</p><p>“How long did they last?” asked the clerk.</p><p>Jaek checked his chrono. “‘Bout an hour now,” he said.</p><p>“You gonna tell them?” asked the clerk.</p><p>“Think I’ll let them stew a bit,” said the guide. “Maybe build up the temple tomorrow morning, say it can sense purity. Fries anyone who tries to get in if they’ve recently fucked.”</p><p>The clerk nodded his approval. Jaek flipped another piece of popcorn into his mouth.</p><p>There was nothing more fun than fucking with Imperials, he thought. </p>
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